


Snow

by Kitsilver



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Happy times, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 09:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsilver/pseuds/Kitsilver
Summary: It is Clarke's first winter in Polis, and she hates the cold. But Lexa helps her find something to like about it.Or (as my gf says): A Christmas Carol in Polis...with a bit of fireside action.





	Snow

It was Clarke’s first winter in Polis.

The leaves had changed and fallen, leaving their trees bare and still. The harvest was in, assuring that their people would have enough food for the winter into the spring. Lexa could feel the air get cooler, day by day, her breath fogging in the morning as she trained with her warriors, felt the occasional crunch of frost beneath her boots before it melted off by midday. It would not be long now before the first snows arrived, and while the hustle and bustle of life in Polis would continue, it would slow, the people settling inside their homes to stay warm, their days preoccupied by gathering wood and telling tales by the fire. It was one of Lexa’s favorite times of the year, a time of stillness and often peace, as even warring tribes would cool their enmity in the cold of the winter months.

But there was one person who wasn’t as happy with the changing seasons.

“Why does it have to be so cold,” Clarke grumbled for about the hundredth time, arms wrapped around Lexa, head resting on Lexa’s chest as they lay in bed. Lexa hid her amused smile in Clarke’s hair and wrapped her arms more tightly around Clarke, their legs entwining under the fur blanket and warmth from the nearby fire warding off the night’s chill.

“Winter _is_ coming, Clarke,” Lexa said. Of all the things Clarke could complain of after settling in Polis, after all that they had endured, she would pick something like the weather. “Did they not have different seasons or temperatures on the Ark?”

“Temperature control,” was all Clarke said with a huff, as if annoyed that she could not simply control the weather. Lexa shook her head, marveling at the thought of a world without seasons or sun, the breath of cold to signal winter’s coming, the gradual thaw that would usher in a new spring. How different and strange was the world of the Sky People; how grateful was she that Clarke was now here, and not there. Clarke’s grumbles soon faded and they held each other in the quiet of the room, falling asleep to the crackle of the fire and the warmth of each other.

Then one day Lexa woke up alone, the cold clear light of dawn streaming in through the window, the bed beside her empty and cool. She sat up, seeing that the fire had died in the fireplace, and no sign of Clarke.

“Clarke?” she called, her breath fogging in the early morning air. No answer, but she felt a draft of cold coming from the window. Not bothering to put on her boots, and shivering in the cold air, she wrapped the fur blanket around herself and walked to the balcony. There she found Clarke, a thin blanket wrapped around too, just gazing at the land that lay before them. 

“What is it, Clarke?”

Clarke took a moment to answer, then said, with wonder in her voice, “What is that, Lexa?”

Lexa looked out at the view over the balcony and smiled. She went to Clarke, throwing the much heavier fur blanket around them both, and wrapping her arms around Clarke.

“Snow,” she said against Clarke’s ear. Clarke leaned back into her, and they stood there for a time just taking in the sight. Lexa tried to see it through Clarke’s eyes, all of Polis laid out before them, the familiar shapes of streets and homes now covered in white snow. The trees were heavily frosted, branches heavy from the weight of snow. Light from the early morning sun was breaking through the clouds and seemed to shimmer on the fields of white.

“It’s beautiful,” Clarke whispered.

Lexa kissed her cheek, warmth spreading in her chest. This was her home, her people, and her land. She wanted to share it with Clarke, and hoped that she could one day love it as Lexa did. 

She made sure to dress Clarke warmly, in thick gloves and good boots and snowshoes in her pack for extra measure, before showing her what her city was like in the winter. Clarke laughed seeing the children play in the streets, throwing snowballs at each other, and Lexa had only the glint in Clarke’s eyes as warning before a snowball was thrown at her face. Her warrior’s training was good for more than battle, it seemed. She dodged the missile and scooped up a great big ball of snow and flung it at Clarke.

And missed.

Clarke laughed at the flabbergasted look on her face. “Even the Commander misses sometimes, it seems.”

With a loud roar, Lexa ran after a laughing Clarke, exchanging snowballs all the while. Some missed, some landed, and soon both of them were laughing as they shook snow out of their hair and patted it out each other’s clothes. Then Clarke took her hand and together they ran to a group of children playing with sleds on a hill, who were treated to the sight of their Heda and her mate screaming as they rushed downhill on the sled. Or Clarke screaming, and Lexa holding on tightly. Their sled came to an abrupt halt at the bottom and they were tossed out, landing in soft powder. But when Lexa looked at Clarke to see if she was hurt, Clarke was laughing, her face alight with joy, her blue eyes sparkling. Lexa felt a smile of her own growing on her face, and her heart felt fuller than it had in a very long time, so she kissed Clarke right there in the snow, while the children hooted and cheered from above.

It had been a very long time since Lexa had played in the snow.

All that she had to do that day, the regular business of being Heda and leader of her people, could wait. Lexa spent the day with Clarke, sharing in her wonder and joy, sharing the treats that her people brought out during the winter time. Mulled wine, made with cinnamon and spices, warmed just enough to heat the throat as it went down. Sticky sweets made of nuts and fruit and honey. Life was often hard in Polis, but there were simple pleasures to be had too. And the people were happy to share, and smile at the rare sight of their Commander walking among them, as happy and carefree as they had ever seen her. 

When they finally returned home at the end of the day, their cheeks flushed from excitement and cold, Lexa built up the fire until it roared in the fireplace, bathing the whole room in a warm, golden glow. She removed the heavy furs and gloves and boots from Clarke, and Clarke did the same to her, until they were naked by the fire. Then they kissed, soft and slow, and Lexa could taste the spice of the wine and the sweetness of honey on Clarke’s lips. Lips that she could taste forever, and never have enough. Soft and slow gave way to something deeper, harder, and they pressed their bodies together as desire rose in them both. Lexa kissed her as if she had never kissed before, as if the burden of being Heda never existed, as if she had never known loss or heartache. Her heart felt full to bursting and at the same time so light that it could have burst from her chest. And when she stopped to take a breath, her heavy breathing a match for Clarke’s own, and saw the joy that she felt shining from Clarke’s eyes, she wrapped herself around Clarke and kissed her again, never wanting to let go.

She lay Clarke on their bed, taking a moment to admire her mate’s beautiful body. Running a hand along the soft expanse of skin, the curve of hip and waist, the softness of her breasts. She looked up into the blue of Clarke’s eyes, seeing only love and happiness there, and kissed her smiling lips. 

Then she kissed Clarke on the neck and felt her squirm.

Teased her breasts with her tongue until Clarke guided her elsewhere with a demand that she _stop teasing_. Heard Clarke gasp and felt her body arch when she took that nipple into her mouth and sucked.

Dragged her fingertips down the curve of Clarke’s back and hips and thigh, squeezing the softness and the muscle there. Teased her until Clarke dragged her hand to the place she wanted it most, with a whispered _please,_ and both of them gasped when Lexa’s hand found her wet. Clarke whimpered, head arched back as Lexa latched onto a nipple with her teeth, lashing it gently with her tongue, and flicked her clit. Clarke moaned, and whimpered, and arched into Lexa’s hand, and gushed. And when Clarke couldn’t take any more, Lexa dragged her body down Clarke’s, unwilling to let her go, and buried her face in the wetness between Clarke’s legs, licking her clit until Clarke cried out and came once more.

Only then, with Clarke’s fingers buried in her hair and her cries of release still ringing in her ears, did Lexa stop. She rose up to cover Clarke’s body with her own, sinking into the softness of her, kissing her deeply, with all of herself.

They had made love many times before, when the intensity of their emotions had been so great that Lexa did not think she could hold them all inside. They had fucked before, when their desire and wanting had been so great that clothes had been torn in their haste to be inside each other.

It had never felt quite like this, a moment out of time, when the burden of Heda and Wanheda could be put aside, and they could laugh and play like children while Lexa saw the world anew through her lover’s eyes. This juxtaposition of cold and warmth, joy and desire, and heat, within and without, was something she had never felt before.

She didn’t think she could ever feel this way again.

Lexa was still kissing Clarke, soft butterfly kisses, when Clarke ended the kiss. She opened her eyes to see Clarke looking up at her, smiling, eyes searching Lexa’s face as if she were trying to commit the moment to memory. Lexa kissed the hand that Clarke brought to her cheek and pressed herself against it, closing her eyes, wanting to remember this moment too.

The moment was broken when Clarke said, amusement in her voice, “I don’t think I mind the winter after all.”

Lexa laughed and fetched the heavy fur blanket to throw over them both, before snuggling next to her love.

“Is that so?”

Clarke grinned. “It does have its benefits.”

Lexa chuckled, then yawned, the activities of the day and night catching up to her. Her eyes felt heavy, and she wrapped her arms around Clarke and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m glad you think so.”

Clarke found her hand beneath the blanket and intertwined her fingers with hers. “Thank you for today, Lexa.”

Lexa nodded, eyes closed and already halfway asleep, and felt Clarke kiss her head.

Then they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other, as the warm glow from the fire danced around the room and snow began to fall once more on the streets of Polis.

**Author's Note:**

> I was missing Christmas and Clexa. In May, lol. Writing this fic made me smile, so I hope it did the same for you. Thank you everyone for reading this, and for any comments you might have. Those mean a lot to me. And thank you to my gf for always reading my fics, for making the second summary, and for being you. =]


End file.
